


Daddy Issues

by 6erikar9



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-20 14:54:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13720056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/6erikar9/pseuds/6erikar9
Summary: >:^)





	Daddy Issues

What does life mean to you? When you have nothing left, when you've given up everything to make the person you fucking love happy. When you realize you held on until there was nothing left to save your pathetic ass from complete and utter failure.

In my eyes, everyone is a fucking disgrace. If you aren't worthless, you're a shitty person. If you aren't shitty, you're fucking worthless. That's the way this damn world works, that's the way everything fucking works. If you aren't loved, you will never fucking be loved. You'll know you aren't loved, when, your fucking partner of all people, leaves in hopes of a better future. You'll know you aren't loved, when every chance you have at communication, is destroyed by every shitty person on this godforsaken earth. 

I swore to him, I wouldn't let his body touch the ground. I told him, to let me be his fucking gravity. I fucking told him, I'd wait until he cared. As long as he kept his arms around me, as long as he kept his fucking eyes on me, I swore we'd be fine. Every word he said to me left me with that lingering feeling of anxiety. For our anniversary, I got a simple, "I love you." For my birthday, damn, that must've been a fucking joke with how hard the damn fool made me laugh as he claimed he didn't remember. Chances are, he was balls deep in his fucking friends, while I was off caring for the fucking kid I adopted with him. My fucking son doesn't understand why his father is never home. My fucking son can't even go to school because I can't afford gas, or supplies, or anything more than the bills and food. My fucking growing child, can't even go a day without telling me how much he would like to have something sweet to eat. All because Eridan Ampora is a fucking cunt. 

I swear to god, if I didn't have my son with me, I'd move far, far away from this vile, piece of shit that I can't even call my husband anymore. 

But I love him, I love him more than I want to admit. My son gets so happy when he finally sees his dad- the smile on his face is priceless whenever Eridan decides to show up. I can't even begin to think about how to tell my 7 year old about a divorce. I don't even want to think about how sad he'll look when I tell him his dad will only be able to see him once a month. 

Truthfully, I don't want to see Eridan go either. I married him, because I fucking loved him. I wanted us to be the perfect couple, but the only time we were both happy was after the sex. It's been 5 years since I've seen his dick, and while that isn't the worst thing, I know it's for the best. I feel so fucking vulnerable, knowing that my soulmate is right in front of me, but he won't fucking admit that I'm his soulmate too. He's a fucking selfish jerk, who can't help his husband, can't help his kid, hell, he can't even fucking help himself half the time. 

I'm so tired of finally being able to drive my son to school for a week, only to hear him ask if his dad will be there when I pick him up. I'm so tired, of telling my son that his dad is busy at work, when in reality, not even I fucking know what he's doing. 

"Dad, what's for dinner?"

I don't know, wanna help me figure it out?

"Dad, can we go get this really cool toy I saw someone bring to school?"

Your birthday is soon, make sure to put it on your wishlist. 

"Hey dad, can we go to the park?"

Once I can buy you new sneakers, I promise I'll take you every day.

"What about the beach? You don't need shoes for the beach!"

I'm sorry, the car doesn't do well with long trips. 

"Why didn't Santa come? Or the Tooth Fairy? What about the Easter Bunny, is he okay?"

They're all waiting for your 8th birthday, you're growing too fast for them to catch up. I promise you'll get something from all of them soon. 

"Why don't I look like you?"

You do look like me, silly, you'll grow into it!

Then I laugh it off, because I can't fuck up life for my son. I can't tell him we're too poor for everything. I can't tell him that we're only alive because of my relatives and food stamps. I can't tell him that his dad and I don't get along. 

I can't tell him, that today, his dad called me, and said he would be spending the entire week of Father's Day with us. I want to see him smile, and run up to his dad for a hug. I want to see him show off all the toys I found him at yard sales and thrift stores. I want to see him show his dad that he can count all the way to 200, and then go back down again. I want him to pull his favourite books out, and sit in my lap as he reads to his dad, just like we used to do for him. 

The next day- I heard that signature knock of his. My son ran to that fucking door so fast, he pushed his cars to the side, grabbed his favourite blanket, and then ran back from the door when I didn't get up to answer it. 

"Dad- please get the door!"

God, he was so happy, I almost didn't want to. His smile was so wide, but I knew he would throw a fit if I waited any longer. I picked him up, wrapped him in the blanket to protect him from the cold as shit wind, then answered the door. 

"Welcome back, Eridan." My voice was almost as cold as the air outside, but my husband knew what to expect. He faked a smile for the kid, but I could tell by the look in his eyes that he wanted to say something that would probably ruin my Friday night. I set my kid down, and of course, he chased after Eridan.

"Dad! Dad! Look at what I got for doing my chores!" He held up some dinosaur book with 3D glasses tucked into a pocket that was hidden inside the book. "You just put the glasses on, and they become real life!" He eagerly shoved the glasses towards Eridan, begging him to put them on.

"Hmm, that seems kinda scary, I don't think I'm ready to see them-" He paused and looked down at my son, who was currently frowning. "Buuuut, I guess I can be brave like you." He put the glasses on as he sat on the couch with my kid, and they sat there, reading that 15 page book over and over again. I felt bad when I had to break up their fun, but damn, I really fucking needed to talk to my husband.

"You know what time it is kid, it's 8:30, and you have to be up early so you can help me pick out some food for the kitchen. I'm sure you want some snacks, yeah?" And with that, I picked him up, read him a short story, then tucked him in for bed. I /almost/ forgot to turn his nightlight on, but he was more than happy to remind me not to forget. 

I sat in complete silence with his father for 30 minutes. 

"So, do you have a TV or-" I cut him off.

"No."

"Why not?"

"I don't have the fucking money, asshole. You shouldn't fucking be here. You're great with my son, but you're a self-centered jerk who can't even help his fucking husband pay the bills, or get gas, or buy your son presents for his fucking birthday. You're the literal scum of the earth. All he asks about is you, and he's never fucking happier than when he gets to see you, or hear your fucking voice. Don't fucking give him this bullshit, /Ampora/. Don't tease him with something he can't have. He doesn't deserve to go through what I've gone through with you, and-"

"I love you."

I remember the look on his fucking face when he said those three words. I remember how hopeful he looked, and I remember how dumb I fucking felt when I realized what I was doing.

"I love you too."

We fucked on my couch. Twice. 

Then, we slept in the same fucking bed we used to share. It felt so nice to hold him close to me again- it felt so fucking nice to wake up to little kisses on my nose when he wanted to tell me he loved me. It felt so, fucking amazing, when I woke up, and realized he had already done everything it would take me a month to do in one morning. 

He paid the bills, bought fresh food, bought two cases of water, cleaned the house, fixed the lightbulbs that I couldn't afford to prioritize, and he bought new clothes for both me and my son. Not to mention the fact that he prepared lunch for my kid, he made sure my car finally fucking had gas, and he even bought decent fucking soap and shampoo for us. 

But he wasn't even there so I could thank him. 

"He said he went to get something for you, but I can't say what!"

I smiled at my son, and sat down on the floor with him. We played some silly game for a good hour- I was the dinosaur, and he was some random car that just wanted to be friends with me. Luckily, the friendship worked out, and at that moment, Eridan walked in. 

"Hey, babe, sorry I wasn't here when you woke up, but I got you something." He gave me a weak smile, and handed me a paper bag with a heart drawn in some random golden sharpie. I opened up the bag, only to find a small, black box. I cried when I opened it. 

It was the wedding ring I threw at Eridan when he left. The wedding ring I swore I would never fucking touch again. The wedding ring that he fucking kept. I looked at him in disbelief, and he just- smiled at me. 

I kissed him. I leaned in, and kissed him in front of my son. He was complaining about- something, but I was fucking lost in memories and nostalgia, I just couldn't fucking bring myself to pull away. 

This was about what was best for my son- and my husband had money. He had plenty of money for us- all I had to do was fucking pretend that I trusted him. I had to listen to him- I had to make sure he didn't leave again. 

I've walked in on him multiple times, but I didn't complain. I've bought him alcohol multiple times, but I couldn't fucking complain. I've let him use me multiple times, but I love him, and I love my son. Sometimes, your best bet is to shut the fuck up. 

Today, my son turned 13. He was far from being a child now, he was a teenager, and I was the dad he hated. I didn't buy him cool things, or drive him to school, I was too busy working my ass off to pay for Eridan's addiction to alcohol. It was whatever made him happy. 

As my husband started to feel more comfortable, my son went the opposite direction. He said he wasn't feeling too good, so I let him stay home while his dad was off doing whatever, and I went to work. I came back home to a note on the floor. 

Dear Dad (Karkat),

I know everything is hard for you, because all Eridan ever talks about is how much you do for us. I don't want to be in the way. I don't want to keep fighting for things that won't get better. I know I was adopted, I know how bad life is, and I know this is going to hurt you more than it's going to hurt me, but I'm tired of watching you suffer. I'm tired of hearing you crying about how useless you are when you think I'm asleep. I'm tired of pretending everything is fine. I'm tired of everything. 

The rest of the note wasn't even fucking important, I called 911 faster than I even thought was possible. The police arrived, they walked into his room, and found him hanging from a hook he had installed all by himself in the ceiling. My fucking baby was hanging there, lifeless, cold, dead- he was fucking gone. They called Eridan up, and he rushed home to see if this shit was real. I didn't want to believe it, and neither did he, but even to this fucking day-

It's my fucking fault. My son is gone because I wasn't strong enough. 

And- my /loving/ husband makes sure to remind me every day in the form of painful words and bruises;

But I'm still just trying my best

To pay the fucking bills.


End file.
